Pan's Labrynth
by anothercarly
Summary: Violet was sick and tired of the life she was living, so she ran away. And that was fine and good until she had that one dream that changed her life forever.


Violet Dalton was on her last leg, her last ounce of tolerance.

The brilliant teenager had a knack for being impatient, intolerable, and for the most part, just _miserable._

Analyzing her situation in the most objective of perspectives, her life was not exactly _bad. _Her family loved her, she attended a very good school, achieving good grades, lived in a comfortable home, and therefore her exhaustion for her life seemed unwarranted. However, there was something quite odd about the situation. While her mental health had always been a bit in question, her anxiety and depression medications often going ignored, this incident ranked amongst the highest of her episodes.

All she knew on that Friday night was that it was time for her to go. She was running away. Her decision was final.

She packed a bag, filled with rations of food and extra clothes, loads of socks, another pair of jeans. She dressed herself in her combat boots, jeans, and jacket. It seemed fitting for the spring nights up ahead, but she put on a scarf just in case.

And she stole one of her brother's beloved pocket knives.

If Violet Dalton was running away, she was doing it right.

And so, in the dead of night, she waltzed out of the front door of her house.

Reasonably you are questioning why our seemingly brilliant protagonist would make such a foolish, unwarranted decision. As your narrator I have neglected to tell you the context of such events-a massive argument with her family. It ended in tears, screams, and sadly-violence.

And she was afraid. Her once perfect enough family was now tragically flawed. And as opposed to accepting that reality, the belief of not being wanted finally confirmed by the events of the night.

And so she walked. She had left her telephone and car at home-she didn't want to be found, and to take either item was to jeopardize her whereabouts. She had a relatively significant amount of cash. If she needed a place to stay, she could afford a youth hostel in her city, or in other ones.

After walking into town for about an hour, she decided that at least for tonight, she would sleep in the great outdoors. She found her way to a park, often used as a campground, and laid out the blanket she had brought along. It would serve her well-she did not fear the night. She could defend herself.

And so she fell asleep, questioning her intentions, but also too stubborn to admit that they were a mistakes. There was no turning back now.

She slept better than she expected to, except for the fact that she had the strangest dream. She was in the campground-eerily silent, and it was covered in deep, deep fog. She took her bag and wandered, with purpose, to a location which she could not determine. Until she found it. A deep, green pit, swirling with something looking similar to what Violet could only call magic.

And then she felt herself being pushed in, backpack still on her shoulders, into the pit.

And then she woke up.

She opened her eyes, looking at the sun streaming through the trees, the hard ground beneath her.

It took her more than a moment to realize that she was not in the campground she had been in before.

She jumped up, confused and frightened, and looked around her.

At first glance it looked like any other forrest or set of woods, but upon further examination she found strange plants, dreamlike qualities that held no place in her home's parks.

"_Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore."_ She all but whispered to herself. And then Violet looked herself up and down, finally analyzing it all. She was covered in dirt, cuts, and bruises. It was like she had fallen from the sky, through the brush.

She decided that a change of clothes, at the moment, was not of pertinence. Her wounds, however, were. Her backpack was on her pack, for whatever reason. She, idiotically, didn't pack first aid. Her only mistake. She didn't exactly expect to wake up in a mysterious wood, cut and bloody. She pulled a water bottle out, however, and spilled some on any open wounds, pressing her hands against smaller ones in order to close them. There were a few rather large cuts, however, that would need bandaged. She sighed and pulled the scarf from around her neck, ripping about six inches from the bottom, and then tearing those into separate strips. It wouldn't last, but it was better than nothing.

"Now what?"

Violet was now regretting not bringing her cell phone. Her dreamlike state was starting to fade, instead being replaced by panic and denial.

"I'm still dreaming. I couldn't have been kidnapped-that doesn't make sense. I'm dreaming."

"Well, they don't call this place the land of dreams for nothing." The sudden voice from behind Violet cause her to shriek in surprise. She whipped around to see a boy, about the same age as she, standing where she had just been looking. As if her appeared there.

He seemed entertained by her fear, only smiling at her response. She took a deep breathe in response. "I'm sorry. It's just. . ." She didn't know how to put it, as he paused, the boy raised his eyebrows, awaiting response. "I have know idea where I am."

"Well, these forests can be a bit tough to navigate." His response portrayed a condescending, ignorant nature, while his tone insinuated a bit more knowledge. Violet, too exhausted, too confused, and too intimidated to make a comment addressing such, decided to tell the truth.

"I-I wasn't _here _before. I was at a campground. It certainly didn't look like this. This is too different." She shook her head, head starting to hurt from trying to think of her last actions. She could barely think back to what happened a few moments ago, much less how she could have gotten there. "Where am I?"

"You're in my land. How did you get here?" His gaze became a bit more menacing, threatening, as he stepped forward. Violet instinctively stepped back with each step he took forward.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't know how I got here." She planted her feet firmly to the ground, putting her hands up in surrender.

He grinned, but in a malicious way. "I don't believe you. What's the last thing you remember, Violet?"

"How do you know my name?" Violet responded, starting to legitimately worry.

"Answer my question."

It was a demand.

"All I remember is this dream. I found-I found this weird, magical looking green pit. And someone pushed me in."

He nodded, accepting the response. "If you found it, that means that there are more intruders. Fabulous. But I must handle one at a time, mustn't I?" The way he said handle made her shudder. She was afraid. And he loved it.

"I'm sorry. I'll leave. I don't mean-if this is yours, I'll leave. I just don't know how."

"No, Violet. I'm afraid it's not as simple as that. Nobody _leaves _Neverland."

There were so many things wrong with that statement. Namely, the mention of Neverland.

"Excuse me?"

"Welcome to Neverland, sweetheart. The name's Peter Pan, and this is my island."

No. No, no no. Violet must be dreaming now. Positively. Peter Pan, Neverland, it was all stories. It was nothing but a novel turned legend turned fairytale. It was nothing but fiction.

"I am dreaming." Violet decided, becoming even more light headed than she was previously. "This isn't real."

"Oh, it's very real, Violet. Now, what shall I do with you?" He began to pace around her, forming a circle, hand to chin. "I can't simply let you _leave. _That's positively boring. And you didn't choose to intrude, so I very well can't punish you for that. And execution is just so boring."

Violet was terrified.

"You, however, dear, are not." He stopped and grinned. "You're welcome in my land, given that you survive. I'll be in touch, dear Violet."

"Wait!" Violet shouted desperately as he began to walk away. "Please. I don't understand."

He stopped at grinned at her. "No, you understand perfectly. But you're afraid. Let me assure you, darling; don't be scared. Nothing happens on this island unless I want it to. And I think you're worth keeping around for a while."

And then he disappeared.

Violet was clueless. Peter Pan, however, was not.

The Island was his game board, each resident his game piece. Every being served a place on the board. Violet's arrival was not coincidence. No arrivals were. Nobody made it on or off the island without his knowing it, wishing it.

So obviously, his desire for a new plaything was fulfilled. And Violet would fit the part quite nicely.

* * *

Dreaming or not, Violet did not like what "Peter Pan" had to say. For starters, the sentiment of_ nobody leaves, _followed by the idea of it being his island, under his control completely. Oh, and we shouldn't forget the part in which he claimed that this was Neverland, and he was Peter Pan.

However, Violet decided that a suspension of disbelief, at this time, was the first course of action to take. In this dream, she was in Neverland, and she just met Peter Pan, but obviously not the one in the Disney Films.

So she thought back to the original Peter Pan. It was dark, and apparently so was this Neverland.

She rushed towards her backpack, searching for the pocket knife which she had brought along. She hoped her dream had carried that over as well. She let out a cry of relief as her hands found the cool handle of the switchblade. She silently complimented herself for her cleverness.

So she tied her boots, equipped her backpack, and began her treck through the woods, avoiding contact with any plant that looked threatening, which was, in fact, all of them. Her treck was quiet, peaceful, until she felt an arrow shoot straight by her, only millimeters away from the side of her cheek.

"_Given that you survive." _Violet whispered to herself.

Violet had no record of fighting, however, if this was a dream, that didn't matter, did it?

She could fight them.

She spinned around as another arrow flew past her, but to her disbelief, she caught it, mid air.

"How in the world did I do that?" Violet whispered to herself.

She looked around, and surrounding her was was four teenage boys, wearing black cloaks and holding strange wooden weapons, one with an arrow.

"It appears we have an intruder on the island." The on in front, blonde with a slow, drawling voice, said.

His eyes held threats.

So Violet ran as fast as she could, which wasn't fast at all, by the way, but it bought her time to think of a plan.

If she were dreaming, death would only wake her up. But then again, there wasn't much evidence supporting she would die, and everything else could still hurt like hell.

She could hide, though. And the forest was full of trees. She spotted the nearest one and used her pocket knife to help her climb it, allowing it to act as a grip and a handle for the trees. "Please, please work."

She sat up there for a few moments before they found her.

"Come on down, girl." The way the leader said girl was with condescension. "Or we can shoot you down."

"Playing out my chances up here sounds like a much more favorable option, thank you!" Violet called back down.

"Fine, Alexander!" The leader shouted. "Fire away!"

Arrows started flying, and Violet had a feeling it wasn't too long before one hit her. But this was _her _dream. She controlled the outcome. She could be clever.

She did something risky, then. She pulled an arrow out from the tree and gently pushed it into her stomach, closing her eyes, screaming, and pushing herself off the branch and to the ground. She stayed down, breathing quietly, feigning unconsciousness. She stayed that way until she heard the four boys surround her.

"Nice shot, Alex." She heard their leader remark.

She felt their breathe on her face, could feel them standing over her.

"Pick her up, boys. And let's take her to camp. Figure out what he wants us to do with her."

Now Violet very well couldn't have that. As she felt them lean over to pick her up, her eyes snapped open and she kneed one of them squarely in the groin.

Sitting up, she elbowed another next to her and pulled the knife from her pocket. While she didn't feel exactly comfortable using it, she liked displaying it as a warning.

Had this not been a dream, Violet could have never fought them off. But with the power of intention on her side, she was unstoppable. She fought the four off, critically hitting them each one by one until all that remained was the leader. He pinned her to a tree.

"You're quite the mess maker. I'm sure he won't be very happy about that." But she kneed him in the crotch, causing him to loosen his grip as she pushed off, pinning him to the ground, bearing her knife at his throat.

"Threaten me again and this knife won't just be _at _your throat. It'll be _in _it." And then she punched him in the face, sending him unto unconsciousness as well. ANd then she did what her and her brothers' video games had taught her to do after destroying the enemy.

_She looted._

On the leader, she found a sword and belt to which it was sheathed. She quickly slipped it off of him and around her waste. She also took the bow and arrows from the archer. Nothing else around her seemed worthy of looting.

"I could get used to this dream." She muttered to herself as she slipped her knife into her bag, for she wouldn't need it with a sword at her leg.

And then she heard slow clapping from beside her. There was her so called Peter Pan, leaning against a tree.

"You're doing much better than I thought. I must say, I wouldn't have pegged you to be a believer." He remarked with a grin.

"It's my dream. I'm in control of it." Violet shrugged.

"Oh, that's why, isn't it? You believe this isn't real, so you believe in yourself. Not exactly right, but it'll do for now."

"What are you talking about?"

"You aren't dreaming, Violet." He started pacing. "But I imagine you just won't believe my telling you that. But your believing in the dream will only serve you for so long. Eventually you're going to need to believe in Neverland."

Violet only shook her head, looking down on to look back and see Peter Pan.

"Shall we carry on, then?" She spoke softly to herself. She stepped over the unconscious bodies of the boys, hoping to buy herself enough time with the knock outs that she could put some distance between them. She still had no idea what her purpose of wandering the island was. To survive? One doesn't die in a dream. She could find a way to wake up, then. Maybe she was in a coma, and this was all her mind's way of giving her being something to concentrate on. Or maybe this was just a really, really tough dream to get out of. One that she couldn't simply will her way awake. How does one wake up from a dream?

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes for a few minutes, before thrusting it forward in an attempt to wake herself up. Nothing.

"Come on." She did it again, but it didn't work.

Well, it looked like she found her goal. To wake up.

She'd had nightmares before. During her _dark _time. Every night would be a different horrible, horrible dream, with absolutely no avail of waking up before things got too bad. So every day she would read articles about dreams, and waking up. She knew the tricks, even the most drastic of them. She looked around, remembering one.

A fall.

Falling as hard and fast as one could imagine.

Obviously, the trees wouldn't do, considering her jumping from them did her little good. But she couldn't very well stay asleep when she was plummeting to her death at hundred of miles per hour, could she?

A cliff was what she needed. That would do the trick. And what's a mystical dream island without a mountain?

She climbed to the top of a tree in order to see everything around her. It wasn't as tall as she would have liked, but she did spot exactly what she was looking for. A cliff.

The only problem?

It was far away.

But then again, not everything in the world was easy. Certainly not dreams.

So she climbed down and began her hike, knowing it wouldn't be easy. Luckily, now she had a fighting chance. She had weapons.

Luckily the cliff was in the opposite direction of the boys she had fought, but in warning she ran, attempting to gain distance. But her running left her exhausted, so she slowed down to a walk. It was starting to grow dark, but she refused to stop. Exhaustion would not take her. She found her goal, and this was her dream. She could survive it. At least until she made herself wake up.

About an hour passed, and exhaustion was beginning to take her over. Her stubbornness did not allow her to consider setting up camp, or attempting to rest. So she kept going, and going, until her body refused to continue, weighing her down and blocking her sight, putting her into the sleep she denied herself. When she woke up, she was furious. For starters, she had fallen asleep! That should have been enough to wake her up! And she lost precious time-she slept. She didn't need sleep, this was a dream! A dream from which she would wake up immediately!

Violet scolded herself as she continued her journey, seemingly weaker than the day previous. To be expected, she still had her few injuries, yet it was much worse than would expect. Every step she took seemed like it took all of her energy, every breathe a project. Yet she continued on.

And as usual, things were fine until she was attacked.

This time by a _tiger _all things. Boys were easy to control, at the height of her energy and faith in herself. But a tiger was another story, and this time, as weak as she was, she wasn't exactly sure she would be able to manage.

But that didn't stop her from trying.

When she spotted it coming after her, she pulled out the bow and arrow. The one archery lesson she had in ninth grade proved that she was by no means the best, but she knew the technique at least. She drew her bow, bringing her hand to her cheek, and shot. She missed.

Fired again.

Miss.

"Come on, please." She whispered to herself, but it didn't work. Her surroundings were spinning, and she was completely unable to fire an arrow properly. Tossing them aside, she drew her sword.

"Here, kitty, kitty." She cooed, holding the sword in front of her. The tiger lurked, stalking it prey before pouncing on its feast. Before Violet could swing, it had her on the ground, teeth bared. Her arms were pinned by its sharp, sharp claws. And just when she though she was going to die, she tried one last thing. Her legs were free, so she kicked them up, attempting to disarm the tiger.

Nothing.

So she tried again, this time harder. This only angered the tiger.

So Violet screamed as loud as she could, which she might add was very, very hard.

As she did so, she maneuvered her hands around the sword. While her arms were nailed to the ground via the claws, her hands were not. She was able to get a messy, messy hit on the beast. But it hurt it, enough for her to remove herself from under the tiger.

"Now's your chance to run, tiger. Before this gets messy." She whispered, once more talking to herself. However, this only made it more upset. It attempted to punce again, this time Violet was able to move slightly to the side, and as the tiger landed she aimed her sword.

The animal was defenseless, at her mercy, ready to be killed.

And she couldn't.

She hesitated. That was her mistake. The tiger, seeing her distraction, bit at her arm. Once he did, Violet had little choice but to end its life.

She had just slayed a tiger.

The wounds the animal left were not petty; she could say that much. The tiger's claws left a nice amount of damage, but it was nothing continued to the one on her left arm. It hurt like hell, to say the least. SHe comed through her backpack, wincing at each movement. She found the water bottle, with very little remaining. She poured it on the bite and wrapped another torn off piece of her scarf around it. And she continued on, knowing it would all stop hurting when she woke up. But each step was more difficult than the last. She had excruciating pain coming from her arm, abdomen, and wrists. The scarf did little for the blood loss, it was still draining through the thin fabric. She was ready to burst into tears.

It was about now that she wished "Peter Pan" would come and take her away.

But in the Neverland, no such magic would happen. This Neverland required you to fight.

So that's what she did.

She fought the pain, the exhaustion, she kept limping forward, barely breathing. She would make it. She would wake up.

_This was the only way._

And by what seemed like a saving grace, she finally made it. She found the dead end, and her pain began to lift.

She would wake up.

Smiling, she walked over to the cliff. Her back facing the edge, she pushed aside the doubt and fear. She closed her eyes and leaned back.


End file.
